Spring Hope
by myanko92
Summary: Byakuya mourns his long-departed wife, but in the midst of his sorrow, receives hope...


_**January 31**__**st**__**, 2014:**__Happy Birthday, Kuchiki Byakuya! May you make a full recovery and get more screen time! _

**Disclaimer: **Bleach doesn't belong to me

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Spring had come to Soul Society, and the air was fresh and clean. Tiny sparrows chirped in the still mostly bare branches of trees just beginning to stir with new life. The sky was blue and clear, with puffs of cloud as white as the disappearing winter's snows floating lazily by, while the sun warmed the chilliness of the earth as it began to waken from its winter sleep.

It was the season of apricot blossoms, and Kuchiki Byakuya sat alone in the open patio of the Kuchiki mansion. It looked out into a courtyard surrounded by a bamboo fence, where a few bold sparrows hopped and twittered in the branches of an apricot tree planted there, just beginning to bloom.

He had asked to be alone this day, and now he sat quietly on the edge of the patio with a mug of tea beside him, already beginning to grow cold. On a day like this, he had sat beside the bed of his sick wife while her eyes closed and she slipped quietly away from where he could reach her. How many years had it been? How long since she had left him alone in a world that to him had lost all joy? More than forty years had passed since that time, and the pain of his loss was still as strong as ever.

Granted, the pain had ebbed from the forefront of his life, becoming a dull ache instead of the sharp, almost unbearable agony that had filled him those first few empty nights. Yet the grief was still the same. It could touch him at the strangest moments, in the midst of a day he would have otherwise called happy. There were days when he could almost, almost, forget, but then he would see something of her in something—the sound of a smile in a reply, the graceful lift of a sleeve, the turn of a head—and it would all come rushing back. The grief was always there, he knew—a constant ache and longing that would never really go away. That truth had been brought home to him countless times as the endless years had passed slowly by.

She had been so important to him: Hisana, gentle and sweet and full of light and love. She had brought an atmosphere of peace to the old Kuchiki mansion, filling it with the scent of flowers and the colors of the seasons. Her soft laugh had rung like delicate bells in the large rooms, and her gentle smile had shone like a ray of sunshine in his heart. She had calmed him, laughing softly behind her sleeve when he had been childishly angry; soothing his real frustrations with thoughtful actions, and, when the time was right, loving words.

It had been hard for her, to suddenly come to grandeur and high station from lowly poverty, and then to be seen as unfit for the "young master" of one of Soul Society's noblest families, and he had tried to make up for those hardships with his love, even though he had feared that it would not be enough.

And wonder of wonders, she had returned his love, even trying to doubly requite all the love she received with her own love for him.

She had brought him tea when he had been tired, listened to his troubles, and admired him in her quiet, sweet way. They had watched the summer moon together, and the autumn's leaves; the winter's snow; spring's blossoms. For five wonderful years she had been the joy of his life, shedding warmth and kindness and happiness in his heart. She had lit the house of his childhood with her presence. Every day with her had been another miracle, another day to discover more of her, to draw closer together, to see her face and hear her voice one more breathtaking time. He had loved her so much; Hisana, who had swept through his life like a ray of sunlight, the soft breeze of spring that brings the scent of growing life and of cherry blossoms. She had brought such life and light to his heart—and then she was gone.

Could she really have gone? There were moments still when he could swear he could hear her voice, hear her laughter. There were moments still when he would turn and half-expect to see her standing there, with her gentle smile and eyes full of love.

A pang of sudden grief shook him, but it passed quickly to leave him gazing with distant eyes past the apricot tree into the blue sky.

Death.

What was death?

He had lived as a human, to die and be reborn here, in Soul Society; as had all the inhabitants of Soul Society. But even here, where all had "died", one could still die, as Hisana had. Where did one go from here, once one had died in Soul Society? Their bodies would dissipate to become the spirit particles that made up Soul Society, and their souls were reborn in the human world, to die and return to Soul Society where the cycle of death and rebirth would begin again—or so he had been taught. He supposed it was true, and yet— _and yet…_ When she died as a human and returned to Soul Society, would Hisana be the same person he'd fallen in love with so many years ago, or would she be different? Would she remember…? And how long would it be till then? Would he be able to find her at that time? Would it be the same as before? Or would he be alone for the rest of the unending centuries of his life, with Hisana's absence eternally in his heart? Was she really gone?

The pain in his heart rose to the surface and threatened to drown him, and as he struggled to bring it back under control, to regain the calm he had managed to create for himself in order to survive, he bowed his head, and a single choked sob escaped his lips.

_Byakuya-sama._

It was not a voice that one could hear with the ear; rather, it was something that one felt, or sensed. It came more silently than a breath, like the clouds sliding across the sky, through the hush that had fallen across the courtyard which held the forbears of spring. Even the sparrows had stopped their talking.

Byakuya still sat with bowed head. After that one expression of pain, he had not made another sound.

_Byakuya-sama._

The voice came once more, and this time it could almost be heard; a woman's voice, soft and sweet. Byakuya still did not raise his head, still lost in grief.

_Byakuya-sama._

Again the voice came, full of love, the sound of a smile touching its gentle tone as it spoke his name. This time he heard, lifting his head in unbelieving recognition to see the source of the voice, eyes wide and almost vulnerable. His lips moved, silently framing a name he had not spoken in years.

_Hisana…?_

And there, where there should have been nothing except the blooming apricot tree and the courtyard's simple bareness; where there should have been no one, least of all her whose voice he now seemed to hear, and as he looked up, to see; there in front of him was golden light, as if a blacked-over window had been thrown open to reveal a perfect morning, hovering a little above him in the air so that he had to tilt his head back slightly to gaze into the light-filled portal. He could not tell whether it was an opening _in_ the sky, or _through_ it; it seemed both a part of the sky and the natural light of day, as well as something utterly beyond and above it; imminently familiar and utterly unknowable. Standing there, in the middle of the bright door, both a part of and apart from the light, was a figure he knew so well that for a moment he could not breathe with the unreality of it. He could not see her face, because of the light streaming from behind her and because of her own radiance, but he knew, _knew_ it was she, and he mouthed her name again; a breath of wonder and unbelief, as if he said it any louder she would disappear. The figure, though he could not see it, seemed to smile.

"_Byakuya-sama,"_ it said that with so-familiar voice filled with love. _"I'm grateful that you are well. I've missed you so."_ At the sound of her voice his throat closed painfully on all the words he wanted to say, and, struggling to even breathe, he could only look.

"_It has been long for us, hasn't it, my lord. Especially for you, left behind for so long… I was…afraid of my death at that time, too: that I would forget you, that I would never see you again. But dying… oh, it's so much more than I ever imagined! I did not think that it would be like this… Oh, my lord, it is all right, and I am happy here, though… I do miss you."_ Her voice grew sweet with a childlike touch of sorrow, before she continued on, as if to reassure him with her next words. _"Do not fear death, but do not seek it, either. Please, stay with my sister a little longer, and help her to be happy. Life is very beautiful, and there are many good things in it, though it may be hard sometimes, and when it is all over, I will be here, waiting for you."_

As she spoke the light surrounding her dimmed, or else his eyes had grown accustomed to it and the radiance coming from the figure of his long-dead wife, and now he could see her face: the features as sweet and delicate and kind as he remembered them, but now rosy and full of a health—and life!—as he had but rarely seen on when she had been alive. She smiled, her eyes glowing with warm love as she finished speaking, and then he was speaking in his turn; fragmented words, in a voice broken and thick with emotion.

"Hisana, I… I've—" the normally calm, deep voice cracked, "I've missed you… every day…" He bent his head, unable to say more, and after a long moment of silence as he struggled with his emotions, Hisana spoke again, her eyes filled with empathy.

"_I've missed you too, my beloved lord. I've wanted to come and talk to you for so long, and today I finally could. I know the years may be long, but now there is hope, isn't there? My lord. When the end comes, we can be together again, and the years together will be like a beautiful dream."_ Her gaze softened and filled with tenderness, and she reached out to touch his cheek with her hand. Byakuya raised his head quickly, his eyes wide and suddenly glittering with tears.

"Hisana…"

Her eyes smiled at him, and then she and the light around her seemed almost to fade, to pull away from him into eternity.

"_Remember that I am waiting for you, and that I love you with all my heart, my lord." _There was one last sweet smile.

"_Byakuya-sama." _

As the light disappeared and the wind and the cheeky sparrows came to life again, Byakuya bowed his head and wept cleansing tears, Hisana's touch still warm on his cheek.

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_~Owari_

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_Written in 2011, or so. It's been a long time since then. ^^; I don't know where this story came from. I only know that I was pondering on Byakuya losing Hisana, the grief he'd feel from her loss, and the sadness of knowing that he'd never see her again for the rest of his life, the sadness of his long years of loneliness. It didn't seem fair. It was too sad. How could anybody go on with their life, knowing that death was the end of everything they loved? And so I wrote this._

_I believe that all men, everywhere, want to believe in a life after death, or at least in a __something__ after they die. I believe in life after death, and I believe that it is a place of rest and refuge and reward, of happiness and joy, where we will be reunited with our loved ones who have gone on before.  
__This belief gives me hope._

_Thank you for reading! I hope that you have a wonderful day. ^v^_


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